


Buried Alive

by tlea



Series: The Lovely Insane [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Dark Stiles, Gen, Guilt, Hallucinations, PTSD Stiles, Post-Nogitsune Stiles Stilinski, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-15
Updated: 2015-06-15
Packaged: 2018-04-04 13:47:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4140015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tlea/pseuds/tlea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sure, he wanted to be dead, but right now, more than anything, he wanted to get the hell out of Allison's coffin. If he was going to be buried, he wanted his own coffin, for god's sake.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Buried Alive

The walls around him were cold. He was in a box, he had decided. His arms and legs could not extend more than three inches without colliding into wood. It was dark, and he had waited for his eyes to adjust, but when they did all he could see was wood above him, still enclosed with darkness.

It was hard to breathe and he tried not to panic, but how couldn't he? He was dead. Or, was supposed to be, anyways. He remembered the cold steel of the gun against his temple and could still hear Scott's cry as he let his finger pull the trigger.

So, why wasn't he dead? He  _wanted_  to be dead.

But what if he was dead? His mind exploded with questions and confusion, and he didn't know what to believe, didn't know what was real. He just knew what was happening to him at the moment, and it was all a mess.

He tried reaching out his arm again, hoping something would be different. His arm didn't meet the wood as he had been expecting. It touched something much colder and softer. Timidly, he turned his head to see what his arm had touched. When his eyes met what seemed to be a stone-pale, lifeless body he yelped and banged his head on the top of the box (  _coffin?_  he thought). The body hadn't been there minutes ago. For sure, absolutely, hadn't been. That right there should've been a good indicator, that maybe this wasn't real, but his reality and dreams got so mixed up all the time, that he could never tell anymore.

Against his better judgment he continued to stare at the body, hoping his eyes would adjust enough to be able to identify something about it. Short, black hair slowly appeared. A square jaw, a dark skirt, female. He screamed.

Allison.

And holy shit, he was in a coffin. Allison's coffin. He had been buried ( _alive?_ he didn't know)  _in_  Allison's coffin. With Allison. He couldn't stop screaming.

 _This wasn't real._  He got a glimpse of Allison's eyes.  _This was real._  And he was dead.

He was banging now. His fists collided on the wood above him, " Help!" He sobbed as his nails scraped up and down the wooden board. Sure, he wanted to be dead, but right now, more than anything, he wanted to get the hell out of Allison's coffin. If he was going to be buried, he wanted his own coffin, for god's sake.

" Get me," He yelled, thrashing violently. He saw Allison move in the corner of his eye, and he flinched, " Holy fucking shit get me the hell out!" Tears rolled down his face and blood ran down his arm.

His mind couldn't comprehend what was happening. He was too confused, and scared, to try to just stop and think about the situation. He didn't understand that the event happening wasn't plausible. Wasn't real. But it could be real, but it couldn't be. He didn't know anymore. Everything he thought was real, wasn't, and vice versa. He was dead, he  _had_  to be. He pulled the trigger, the bullet had to have gone through his head. But Allison had moved. They were both dead. Weren't they?

" It's your fault," was heard above his screaming. He abruptly stopped screaming and slowly turned his eyes to meet Allison. Allison was facing him, now, and he wanted to look away. But he couldn't; wouldn't. Blood painted her face, but she wore a smile, " that's why you're here, with  _me_."

If he couldn't breathe before, he definitely couldn't breathe now. Allison's fingertips grazed his arm and he couldn't help but jump back, causing him to ram into the coffin. She somehow managed to get much closer and he had nowhere to go. He could feel her breathing.

But, she was dead.  _He_ , was dead.

" It was only fair for you to join me," And she giggled, she fucking  _giggled_ as her nails slightly dug into the skin of his arm.

He closed his eyes, reopened them. Hoped it was all a dream. It wasn't. " Shut up," he seethed.  _She was right_ , he told himself,  _you know she is. That's why you offed yourself in the first place, right?_

And,  _shut up, shut up, shut up_ , he screamed at himself, because no, he wouldn't let her, or the Nogitsune get into his head, not anymore.

" Why'd you kill me?" He didn't know if she was asking him, or the Nogitsune. He was still there, he  _was._  Scott said he wasn't, but he was, he never left, he was sure of it.

Allison's eyes met his, and her fingers were on the side of his face, " It should've been you!" She shouted as her hands and nails dug into the side of his face, causing him to wince. Blood trickled down his face and Allison wiped it away with her finger.

" Nothing you say or do will ever make up for what you did!" Her hands had then found a place on his neck, and she proceeded to cut off his air-flow. The coffin shook as she screamed and he was choking. His arms were prying at her hands on his neck, as he tried to buck her body off of his.

 _You deserve a million deaths_ , at this thought he let his hands lay lazily on top of hers.

" You deserve a million deaths!" She screamed, and wait, he had just thought that. His vision was getting fuzzy, and suddenly he decided that the whole thing was bullshit. She was dead, he was dead, the whole thing was ridiculous and he had had enough.

With all his strength he threw his hands onto her neck, and as much as it pained him to, he squeezed as hard as he could. Caught in surprise, she began choking and released her hold on him.

" Just shut up, will you!" He yelled," We're already dead! We. Are. Dead. It's over," Allison began to smirk.

_What?_

He blinked.

Allison was gone. Allison was now him.

His face smirked back at him, and choked out, " Are we really?"

_Are we really dead?_

He squeezed harder, because this made no sense. And please, he just wanted it to go away!

" What the hell are you doing?" He heard someone shout at him. Scott was shouting at him. He wasn't in a coffin. He wasn't dead. He wasn't choking Allison or himself.

But his hands were still wrapped around something, and someone was making god awful hacking noises.

" Stop!" Scott yelled frantically, advancing him. Scott roared, and he was a werewolf.

Why would Scott be like that towards him?

What was going on?

He looked down.

He was choking his dad.

With a shout he immediately let go and scrambled away.

" What the hell were you doing!" Scott roared again as he ran over to the Sheriff and then looked back.

He gulped, and his hands shook, and he tried to ignore the way they were looking at him, like he was some sort of monster.

" It was Allison," The Sherriff and Scott tilted their heads in confusion, and Scott seemed like he would kill him at any second. He looked over at his dad and choked out a sob,

" Dad, I'm so sorry, I-," And he was crying now, because he didn't realize he was hurting his dad. He hadn't known, he wasn't there, and he was afraid. Because the last time this happened, it had been the Nogitsune controlling him. And he had been right, it had never left.

" You're not my son," And something inside Stiles broke, because he had heard those words before, he knew he had.

" What?" He hitched in a breath and he looked at Scott, hoping he would back him up, " No, dad, it's me, I swear to god it's me," Not again, this was supposed to be over. He looked back over at Scott, hoping for  _something_ , but Scott seemed hesitant; unsure.

" You said so yourself," Scott's voice was angry," you told me you thought the Nogitsune was still in you, that it never left, that it was called a Trickster Spirit for a reason," Scott was taking a fighting stance, and Stiles didn't know why, " I tried so hard to believe and tell you that it was gone, that we had gotten rid of it, but Stiles, your dad is right," Stiles began to back up, because holy shit he was almost positive Scott was going to jump on him at any second, " You are  _not_  my best friend," And hearing that had been worse than any death.

"No," He choked out," What the fuck! It's me! Please, you have to believe me," He was crying and backing up, because he really didn't want Scott mauling him.

" I wish I could believe you!" Scott shouted and Stiles saw a glitter of tears on his eyes," But Stiles, wouldn't...he wouldn't choke Allison! That doesn't make sense," Scott was referring to him like he was the Nogitsune, now, like he wasn't Stiles," He wouldn't choke his dad, never,"

Somewhere in the back of his mind he could hear a familiar, dark laugh, and Stiles screamed, " Then kill me!" Because if they didn't believe him now, they wouldn't believe him later, and he wanted to be dead, anyways. He closed his eyes, waiting for whatever was to come, and his hands shook.

" Stiles!" Someone shouted, they sounded scared, and familiar. " Please, don't do this! Stiles, please," They were begging,  _she_ was begging. His hands still shook, but his right hand was holding something. He opened his eyes and he stumbled backwards.

His dad, Scott, Lydia, Kira, and Allison's dad stood in front of him. His dad, Scott, and Lydia all had streaks down their cheeks and bloodshot eyes. Lydia was the one shouting at him, " Don't you dare," She sobbed, " Stiles, just drop the gun," She pleaded.

Stiles paid attention to his shaking hands, and realized his right hand was holding the gun to his head.

_What?_

" No," His eyelids fluttered and it became hard to breathe.

"Put down the gun, Stiles," Scott spoke softly, but stern, and many others pleaded with Stiles, as well.

" I was just..." He was stumbling around now, but he still let the gun linger on his head," I've already done this, I've already killed myself," His vision was getting blurry and the world was tilting.

"  _What?_ " Everyone asked at once, loudly.

" I...Where am I?" He stumbled some more, but everyone stayed where they were. Afraid that any movement they made may cause Stiles to pull the trigger on himself, " You were going to kill me!" He shouted suddenly at Scott, because everything was jumbled in his brain, and that's all his mouth could say at the time.

" What? No, no, I would never, Stiles!"

" I already did thi..." The gun on his head wavered and he stumbled again.

_I already killed myself. This has already happened!_

His vision blacked out, and his feet slipped from under him, and he fell limply to the ground.

Stiles awoke, dazed and confused. Because, what was real?

" I'm real," that stupid voice laughed back.


End file.
